


A Good Day to Die Young

by xanavici



Series: Dead Man Walking [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Deadlock!McCree, Gen, Pre-Canon, Supernatural Elements, but don't worry he's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-06 21:37:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10345077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xanavici/pseuds/xanavici
Summary: Jesse McCree died at fifteen, until someone decided he was worth more alive than dead.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so tired

Jesse McCree was fifteen the first time he died.  It was not a quick or gentle death, surrounded by friends and family.  No, he was not that lucky.  It was a long and painful one that he shared with the desert sun and the bodies of his fellow gang members. 

Just twenty four hours before he had run away from his foster home for the last time.  He ran until he found the place his friend, Scotty, had told him about.

_When you finally get sick of that overcrowded shit hole of a house you’re in, go to this address.  The people there will treat you with real respect and will never abandon you if you promise to do the same._

Scotty was right.  As soon as Jesse walked into that grimy old bar and proved that he was serious about joining up, the Deadlock Rebels welcomed him with open arms.  They gave him a worn-in leather vest, a box of cigarettes, and an old revolver and told him they were his new family now. 

That feeling sure didn’t last long. 

The next afternoon a rival gang attacked the warehouse some of them were squatting in.  Jesse, the naturally good shot he was, managed to kill a few attackers outside before he caught a bullet in the chest, high and to the right, straight through the lung.  He fell to the ground and watched his new family members fall like dominos.  He saw Scotty tumble down right next to him with an extra hole in his head. 

Jesse watched his life go to shit again as he slowly drowned in his own blood.

The rival gang members took everything out of the warehouse that they could carry and left once they thought everyone was dead or dying.  Soon the only sound left in the desert was the wind and Jesse’s labored breathing. 

Jesse knew no one was coming to save him, no one ever did.  He was going to die alone and in the middle of nowhere and he accepted that.  He wouldn’t whimper and beg for help, he would meet whatever was on the other side with his head held high and his dignity held close.

Or, at least that was what he thought.

When he first saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, Jesse thought he was hallucinating.  Reasonable assumption considering how much blood he had probably lost by now.  But his mind wasn’t foggy and his thoughts weren’t mixed up.  Everything looked weirdly sharp and the moving shape quickly took the form of a person. 

They had on a snuggly fitted black suit with fancy leather shoes and black leather gloves.  Jesse couldn’t help but wonder what someone like that was doing in a place like this, or what they were doing with the bodies littering the ground.  The person knelt down next to each body, placed their hand on it, and spoke some words in a language Jesse had never heard before.  When they finished speaking there was a soft flash of light, then they stood up again and moved onto the next body.

The person was turned away from Jesse so he couldn’t see their face, but Jesse had a strange feeling that he shouldn’t anyways.  They emitted an aura that made Jesse’s brain yell at him to get as far away as possible.  But Jesse was helpless to move, so instead he lay as still as possible and hoped his haggard breaths weren’t as loud as they sounded.  But luck just wasn’t on his side today. 

The person stood up from the Scotty’s body and tilted their head, like they just realized they weren’t alone.  When they finally turned around and locked eyes with Jesse, his blood ran cold.  The face of this person wasn’t something he was supposed to look at.  It wasn’t something anyone was supposed to look at.  It was neither male nor female nor anything in between.  Not young or old, or one race or another.  The person’s face kept shifting, but at the same time always stayed the same.

Jesse didn’t know how he knew this, but he knew he was looking at Death incarnate. 

Death strolled over to Jesse and squatted down in front of him with a quizzical look on their face.

“No, no, no, this won’t do,” said Death in an icy smooth tone.  “You aren’t supposed to die today, Jesse Emmanuel McCree.”

Every alarm was going off in Jesse’s head telling him to look away, to get away, to be literally anywhere but here.

“I see a long future ahead of you, Jesse Emmanuel McCree.  One filled with violence and disaster, new beginnings and new families, tragedy and heartbreak, second chances and love.  I see you dying 71 years from now under Sakura trees.  This is what you want, is it not, Jesse Emmanuel McCree?”

Suddenly, Jesse didn't care about facing the void with his head held high, not if what they were saying was true.  Jesse didn't want to die under the high noon sun.

_Yes, yes that's what I want._

Jesse couldn't get his voice to work to tell them so; he couldn't move to at least nod his head.  The one time his big mouth had to stop working.  All he could do was feel his breathing get shallower and his heart beat slower. He didn't have much time left.

“Good choice,” said Death.  Huh, apparently he didn't need to talk.

“Because I also see one more thing in your future,” Death continued.  “I see all of the souls that will come my way thanks to your hands.  Male and female, old and young, guilty and innocent.  Needless to say I want what is promised to me.  And that's why I'm going to give you a little gift to help you with that, and to make sure something like this won't happen again.”

Death raised their hand like they did in front of all the other bodies and Jesse started to panic.  He wasn't dead, not yet at least.  Death’s hand was ice cold and Jesse could feel the last bit of life being pulled out of him.  As Death spoke in that foreign language again, though this time the words sounded different, Jesse's lungs pulled in their last breath, and his heart beat for the last time.  

Jesse found out what waited for him on the other side.  A long hallway illuminated with memories of his past and flashes of his future.  He saw his long dead mother cradling him against her chest.  He saw her lying in that stark white hospital bed with no more life in her eyes.  He saw the foster homes that took him in, and how they returned him like a piece of merchandise when they no longer wanted to put up with his hurt and his anger.

He saw a large and intimidating man sitting across an interrogation table holds out handcuff keys and a woman with a scary eye tattoo teaching him how to shoot a rifle.  He saw himself wandering the desert, holding up a ringing communicator with a metal arm.  He saw long black hair draped over a dragon tattoo.

Jesse looked to the end of the hallway and saw two doors, one black as night and the other white as snow.  He reached out to touch the doors but was stopped by some unseen force that started pulling him back down the hallway. 

_No, those doors are for another day._

Jesse struggled and thrashed and tried to break free.  He had to go through one of the doors, it was the right thing to do, but he kept getting pulled farther and farther away until they were specs in the distance and he was left in the dark.

Jesse McCree came back into the world violently.  His heart pounded away at a pace that was way too fast.  His lungs seized and struggled to bring in oxygen.  His vision was in black and white with a tint of red.  Hands were all over him in a flash and Jesse panicked more until he saw the familiar Deadlock symbol on jackets and shirts.  His organs started to cooperate again the color bled into the world. 

Someone helped him sit up and Jesse saw that there were Deadlock members everywhere, looting bodies and checking the wounded to see who could survive. 

“McCree?  You’re alive?  How the hell did you survive this?” one of the higher ranking members asked.

“I- I don’t know,” Jesse said.  It was only half a lie; he knew who did it but he had no idea how they did it.  Jesse wasn’t even really sure that actually happened and probably would have dismissed it as a figment of his imagination if not for the fact that he was still breathing.

Jesse’s eyes locked onto a figure standing in the distance.  The figure waved then disappeared like a mirage.

~~~

One month later Jesse found himself sitting in the bed of an old pickup truck.  Deadlock had finally figured out who attacked them in that warehouse and where they were holed up.  Now they were speeding down the lone desert highway looking for revenge. 

Jesse’s hand came up to rub the bullet wound he got that day.  A smooth, old scar already covered it, making it look like he got it years ago, not weeks ago.  Every time he tried to make sense of what happened that day, his thoughts ran around in circles until his head hurt.  Someone else might understand what happened, but for some reason Jesse didn’t –couldn’t- tell anyone about what he saw.

When they finally arrived at the junkyard the other gang was hiding out in, everyone jumped out of the trucks and cocked their guns.  The ensuing firefight was quick but bloody.  People on both sides fell, but Deadlock had the greater numbers and the better guns and quickly gained the upper hand.

Despite this, Jesse still found himself looking down the barrel of a gun.  He had gotten himself backed into a corner and surrounded by three rival gang members.  They sneered at him and told him to say his last words, but Jesse stood silent.  He had already met Death once and he knew what was waiting for him on the other side.  He wasn’t afraid.

_A gift, to make sure something like this doesn’t happen again._

Jesse took a deep breath and saw time slow.  The world went black and white again and little red skulls appeared on the foreheads of the three people in front of him.  He acted on instinct and raised his gun and fired three times.  Time snapped back into a normal pace and color returned to his vision.  Three bodies dropped simultaneously, a bullet hole in the middle of their foreheads.  Jesse looked down at the gun in his hands in disbelief.  He was a quick draw and a good shot, but he wasn’t that good.  Jesse let out a hollow laugh and gave the sky a lazy salute.

_Thanks Death, my old friend._

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at: cryptidhanzoshimada


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